


An Armful of Apples

by Psuedo_sweetheart



Category: One Thousand and One Days (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27871281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedo_sweetheart/pseuds/Psuedo_sweetheart
Summary: Alibaba re-introduces himself to his childhood friend after years apart.
Relationships: Dreamer/Alibaba
Kudos: 1





	An Armful of Apples

**Author's Note:**

> Just an FYI: This was written a long time ago, before certain plot related things were known, so it's a bit AU in some aspects.

Alibaba’s heart gallops in his chest like a stallion racing the wind when he sees her again. She’s in the library of course, stacks upon stacks of books strewn around her as she scribbles on her parchment, obviously trying to get her thoughts on paper before they become vague memories. The way she moves, sounds, and smells, are things he memorized when they were children, both of them ignorant to fear. Vashti, the nnjid nobleborn, who stepped into violence with an armful of apples as her weapon; saving his life when he was nobody and nothing. 

He owes her, and yet she’d never called in the debt, choosing to be his first friend instead. He realizes he’s taken a step forward without thinking about it, and steps back into the shadows. It’s something he’s learned over the years, a bit of caution to keep himself from barging into uneven odds, but he doesn’t usually second guess himself.

Sinbad turns toward him, undoubtedly feeling his heart rate skittering, and the spymaster looks away from Vashti, feeling farther from her now than when he was on the other side of the world. Thankfully the div keeps his gaze on him as they skulk in the shadows of the library, the quiet and the scent of paper both a balm and burr to Alibaba’s heart. 

“Are you alright, Alibaba?” the div asks, his characteristic smile twisted into a worried frown. 

The lotogh shifts, crossing his arms over his chest and canting out a hip- striking a pose, as Noor would say. It does what he wants however, Sinbad’s eyebrows rising, and that concerned frown vanishing from his face as he grins. Even more importantly, the div’s attention is diverted from questions Alibaba can’t answer, and his heart, that’s been walking around outside his body since his boyhood, leaves the library, her nose buried in a book. 

The spymaster smirks at Sinbad and the div leans into his space, “Are you thinking of last night?” he asks in a low voice, eyes full of promise, “I can do that again tonight if you like.” 

Alibaba can’t help but chuckle, shaking his head. “Maybe I wasn’t thinking of that at all,” he teases, “Maybe I was thinking about someone else.”

The div gasps, clutching at his chest theatrically, “Are you saying I haven’t enraptured you, Ali-habib? There is another who has claims on your heart? Who is it? I shall challenge them to a duel for your hand!”

“It’s Ifritah,” Alibaba replies deadpan.

Sinbad freezes in place, eyes wide. “Nevermind then,” he replies quickly, turning on his heel and waving an airy goodbye. “See you around, Alibaba. Watch that tale telling tongue of yours doesn’t get you into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Alibaba watches him leave, feeling fond, but also glad he was leaving. Sinbad was irritatingly perceptive at times, but his unfamiliarity with the modern world and its various species and cultures curbed his talent, and he could thankfully be distracted with barely an effort. He starts in the direction Vashti went, the afternoon sun slanting through the western windows taking away his shadows in this part of the castle. Between his hurried steps and long legs, and her dawdling pace, Alibaba almost barrels into the back of the nnjid as he turns a corner, expecting her to be far ahead. 

It turns out to be a fortuitous event for them both, as Alibaba catches sight of the inevitable collision before it happens. The harried servant with a full tray of food rushing down the hall is just as distracted as Vashti, and the spymaster steps in at the last moment. In one graceful movement, he slips an arm around Vashti’s waist, pulling her against his body and twisting out of the way. He immediately sets Vashti back on her feet, although he keeps a hold on her elbow till he’s sure she isn’t dizzy from the sudden whirl of movement.

Finally distracted from her reading, Vashti’s red eyes are wide as she peers up at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Alibaba’s stomach swoops and he’s suddenly eight years old again, peering in through her window and seeing her face, shocked at his finding her. But this time, her eyes drop, cheeks darkening in a blush as she steps out of his grip- the opposite of how it went last time.

He understands, he truly does. They are no longer children, and he is in hiding now, his mask a wall between him and the world, his name a wall between him and the past. Even the one part of both he wants to keep. 

“You might want to reconsider multitasking reading with walking,” he says teasingly, “Unless you don’t mind wearing piping hot gravy, that is.”

Her lips twist into that mischievous smile he’d know anywhere and his heart skips a beat in anticipation before she even speaks.

“Depends on the color of the gravy,” she says, smirking at him. She drops a curtsy, “May I know the name of my rescuer from my greasy fate?”

“You haven’t heard yet?” he asks in mock affront, although he is partially not in jest. His post is still news and seeing as she lives here, she should be aware.

Sadness flashes across her expression so quickly he wouldn’t have recognized it if he didn’t know her so well. But then she’s smiling again, shrugging nonchalantly, “I’ve been busy.”

“Too busy,” Alibaba insists, “If you haven’t even had time to pick up gossip about the handsome and mysterious, Alibaba.”

“Hm, well, you could spread all sorts of rumors about your looks and no one would know either way, would they?”

“Of course they would.” He puffed up his chest, putting his hands on his hips, as he tilted his chin, “There’s more to being good looking than just a face, wouldn’t you say?” 

He’s beyond blatantly flirting now and can’t bring himself to care even though he knows he has no place in her world other than to observe. Still, he’s rewarded for his efforts when Vashti bursts out laughing.

“I actually do agree,” she laughs, amused as she ever is with audacity. She glances at the sun, noticing how low it is getting in the sky. “Unfortunately, I must deprive myself of your glamorous company, Alibaba.”

He bows, “Do take more care, Vashti. There are far worse fates than gravy splatter out there.”

She stares for a second then smiles, “I see you’ve been doing your job well. I’ll keep your advice in mind. Thanks again, Alibaba.”

After she’s out of sight he slips into a shadow and sags against the wall with a whooshing sigh.

He’d done it. He’d spoken to her, introduced his new self, and it hadn’t gone terribly awry. She’d even seemed… open, if not interested. Not that that mattered, he reminded himself viciously. His old goal, of keeping Vashti safe, had not disappeared upon acquiring his new job, and his first goal still applies as well because it always will. Alibaba’s goal is to make it out, not only alive, but comfortably alive, ready to go back to meeting the world on his own terms once again. 

One day his debts would be repaid, and he was determined he would go back to his old ways where every moment of every day was whatever he wanted it to be. For a brief moment he almost entertains his childhood day dreams of Vashti joining him on the streets, the pirate ships, the battlefields of life. 

He straightens and slips deeper into the shadows, refusing to give in. 


End file.
